Crossroads to Nowhere
by Avatar Wolfheart
Summary: Side story to "The Guardian Spirit Trilogy". Mist's background story; can be a stand alone fic. "Sometimes you have to arrive at the crossroads of Nowhere before you can travel the road to Somewhere," she says, looking at the pale scars on her wrist, "and I've still haven't reached the crossroads yet." "I'm not so sure about that," he says kindly, "you might just have made it."
1. Prologue

I was one when my father died. I was two when my mom remarried. I was three when I started calling him father. I was four when everyone in my village died. I was five when I became a thief. I was six when I killed a man. I was seven when I became known as Mist. I was eight when I learned how to fight. I was nine when I traveled to the Fire Nation. I was ten when I was finally caught. I was eleven when I gained a family. I was twelve when I ran away. I was thirteen when I became a leader. I was fourteen when a dear friend was banished. I was fifteen when I returned home ... and sixteen when I left again. I was seventeen when I fell in love.

-Seventeen **Years** of **Lies**

-Sixteen** Promises** I made

-Fifteen times I** Broke** those **Promises**

-Fourteen **Weapons** I learned to use

-Thirteen **Strangers** that changed my lives

-Twelve **Friends** who stand beside me

-Eleven **People** that I **Saved**

-Ten times I **Cried**

-Nine **Scars** I earned

-Eight times I was a **Traitor**

-Seven times I was **Betrayed**

-Six times I tried to commit **Suicide**

-Five **Murders** I committed

-Four places I call **Home**

-Three **Students** that I taught

-Two **Continents** I've been on

-One time I got **Sick**

* * *

One thing you should know about me is that I'm a natural-born liar. That being said, now I need you to trust me because everything I'm about to tell you is true. Think about everything that you know about me and push it aside. My story is not glorious or glamorous. In fact my story starts before I was born but I can't tell you how just yet. Also the list above is not correct. I have actually cried more than ten times and several other things are not right as well. The list is there for all the major things that truly matter. Please listen to my story without judgement and try to understand who I am as a person.


	2. Ashes

A/N: This is a warning that I should have mentioned in the prologue. This story can be very dark and it is going to talk about some disturbing things such as death and suicides. I believe the way I have written this falls under the T rating but will gladly change it to M if you guys believe it should. I'm sorry if I make anyone uncomfortable with the topics I discuss. Also this shouldn't have any implied mentions of sexual encounters but that is also left up to my whim in which case I will automatically change the rating to M.  
-Thank you, Avatar Wolfheart  
Chapter One: Ashes  
I was four when I learned how harsh the world was. It was summer and my mother was talking to my adopted father on the porch of our small house. I sat near their feet, drawing pictures that were as bad as you'd expect from a four year old. All of a sudden one of our neighbors ran into the village from the forest.  
"They're coming," he shouts. Everyone stops what they are doing as he begins talking animatedly. I was too young to understand that it was fear. When he was done speaking everyone began moving around and talking in loud voices. My mother picked me up and ran into the house. I was not happy that she did so and automatically began whining about it.  
"Hush Zera," she instructed, putting me down so she could start shoving things into a pack. At one point she stopped and put her locket around my neck before going back. My father entered the house while she was doing this and grabbed his spear before leaving. There were loud rumbling noises from outside and there were clashes of metal. Suddenly my father reentered the house and started gesturing towards the back door. He had barely said two words when a sharp spear pierced him from behind. I screamed. My mother pulled an oriental knife, maneuvering in front of me. I don't remember the fight that well but in the end my mother was dead as well. I crouched by her side begging her to wake up, unaware of the fire that raged around us. I would have died if it wasn't for my cousin. He ran into the house, sheathed my mother's knife and tied it around my waist before picking me up and running out the back door. He trapped my face to his chest so I wouldn't see the destruction behind him. We made it into the forest but didn't get far before we were spotted. The arrow thudded into his shoulder and he fell, trapping me underneath him. An unknown instinct washed over me and I stayed where I was. The battle was finished quickly and after the sound of rhino's faded I struggled out from under my cousin's body. I wandered back into the village and stared at the destruction around me. No one had been spared and all of the houses had been burnt were on fire. I cried as the only place I knew turned to ash.  
-ZS-  
Eventually I wandered away from the village. I was completely numb and kept on putting one foot in front of another not stopping until I collapsed from exhaustion. When I came to I was lying in a hay cart next to an elderly lady who was talking in hushed voices to her adult children. The woman smiled down at me when she saw I was awake.  
"How do you feel?"  
'Tired," I mutter, "and hungry."  
She handed me a moon peach from a nearby basket and I thank her before eating it.  
"How old are you child?" she asks kindly.  
"Seven," I lie. The daughter turns to face me, no doubt comparing the lie to how old I actually look.  
"Aren't you a little young to be wandering by yourself?" the son asks not turning around, "Where are you parents?"  
This lie is harder to get out, "never had any."  
It wouldn't occur to me until much later that I was acting very different than how I usually did.  
"Oh you poor child?" the woman hugs me suddenly.  
"Song, my name is Song," I lie, not wanting her to know my real name.  
The old woman welcomed me into their home and I stayed, turning five that winter. It wouldn't last forever though. The daughter and I always fought creating enough tension that I ran away not looking back once. The one thing I hadn't thought about was food. I had brought enough to last a week, but had no way of getting more after I ran out. This is when I became a thief.  
I was considering begging when I saw it. A boy several years older than me purposely bumped into a man, cutting the strings of his wallet as he passed. The man had glared after the boy and returned to his conversation unaware of the crime that had just been committed. I was to short and my knife to long to try the same trick as the boy, but it had given me some ides. I set my eyes on the merchant's stands since it was food that I wanted. I bumped into an apple stand, jostling it so that several apples fell off. I grabbed two and left as the merchant stooped down to collect the others.  
Stealing became easy after that. I learned several tricks that helped and my age helped as well. No one would ever suspect a five year old child of such blatant stealing.  
-ZS-  
My life consisted of moving from town to town stealing only what I needed to survive. My travels brought me to a Fire Nation colony where I learned how to steal from houses and shops. Unfortunately, I stayed longer than I should have.  
"Hey, kid," a drunken soldier called to me. I stopped walking and turned to face him. The soldier stumbled towards me and kneeled down to me level.  
"Watcha' doin' out 'ere in the middle of the night," his speech was slurred.  
'I'm heading home, sir," I answer respectfully, trying not to recoil from the stench of alcohol on his breath. The man studies me and notices the knife at my side.  
"You steal that," he hissed.  
"No, sir. It belonged to my father."  
"Why don't ya' let me hold onto that until you're older?"  
"I'm sorry sir, but I really have to be getting home," I take a step back. The man scowls and catches my arm before I can run.  
"I wasn't asking."  
I pulled the knife and slashed at his hand. He pulled his hand back, cussing. I brandished the knife in front of me, trying to appear more confident then I actually felt. The soldier lunged at me and I reacted instinctually. My knife slashed across his throat. I ran, realizing that he was going to die, that he was going to bleed to death.  
I stopped running when I reached a river, crouching down to wash the blood from my hands and knife. I sat, shaking all night long until the sun rose, revealing the blood on my over shirt and shoes. I pulled them off and dropped them in the river.


End file.
